Balthazar and Veronica: The Beginning
by Snips95
Summary: A short fic elaborating on how Horvath came to betray Balthazar and Veronica. Rated just to be safe. Lousy title, I know. Please review!


Disclaimer: I don't own it. :)

She stood in the library, waiting for him at the window, just like she had for the past three weeks. Every night, she worried that he wouldn't come, and every night he had surprised her. Though the three apprentices had been told that love was a distraction, and that it took away from their studies, but Veronica couldn't help but blush every time he looked her way. Even thinking about him made her cheeks turn pink.

"Veronica?"

She turned from the window, smiling, and then—realizing who it was—quickly replaced it with a more thoughtful expression.

"Maxim," she greeted him, happy to see him, but somewhat disappointed that it wasn't Balthazar.

"Do you mind if I join you?" He asked, that smug smile plastered on his face.

"Not at all." She sat down with him on the small bench below the window. For a while, nothing was said. Both were deeply absorbed in their thoughts as they stared out at the English countryside.

Maxim couldn't help himself—Veronica seemed even more beautiful in the white light of the full moon, and he wanted so desperately to tell her that, but for some reason the words wouldn't come. Never before had this happened to him. So, improvising, he impulsively reached for her hand. When he held it in his own, he was so happy that he didn't notice how tense she'd become.

"We—we can't do this," she stammered nervously, pulling her hand away and standing.

"Why not?" He demanded, confused. "We have feelings for each other—"

Veronica shook her head. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, tears glistening in her eyes.

"But, I thought—" Maxim shook his head, still in shock. Then a thought struck him—there was someone else.

"We've always been honest with each other, Veronica," he managed. "Now, I have to know: is there someone else?"

She bit her bottom lip and stayed silent. Honestly, she felt horrible; she had known Maxim for years and she loved him… but the way one would love a brother. Her love for him was completely different than the feelings she had for Balthazar.

"Who, Veronica?" Maxim demanded. He was furious—his Veronica didn't share his feelings. He was going to hunt them down, show her—no, prove to her that he, Maxim Horvath, was the best for her. She _would_ love him! She had to.

"Maxim, it doesn't matter," Veronica protested, trying to turn away, but unable to when he grabbed her arms and held her in a tight grip.

"Who is it?" Maxim yelled, his face turning red, his eyes dark with jealousy.

"Let me go—" she struggled, and just as Maxim raised his hand to strike her, Balthazar entered the room, and calmly stated, "She was to meet me tonight. I heard you two yelling and waited to see what would happen."

Maxim felt as though he'd been punched in the stomach. His best friend, and the woman he loved—how? Why?

He threw Veronica away from him, disgusted. Why had she chosen Balthazar, a commoner, over him? He didn't understand.

"I'm so sorry," Veronica whispered again, unable to say anything else for fear that he would try to hit her again.

"Why?" He growled. "Why would you do this to me?"

"I didn't think—" she started.

"No, I can't imagine that you did." Maxim threw a glance at Balthazar, who looked like he wanted to throw his old friend out the window.

"And of all people, why did you choose him?" Maxim ranted. "A farmer's son who was brought to Merlin! You could have had anyone, but you chose him?"

Veronica gave him an icy glare. "I did."

As Maxim opened his mouth to start yelling again, Balthazar decided that he'd had enough. "Maxim, this isn't going to accomplish anything—"

"Ah, yes, here he comes to your rescue! The Great Balthazar Blake!" Horvath's expression may have been sarcastic, but he would never tell you—to this day—that he'd never felt more betrayed. Balthazar was his best friend—his brother, even!—for Merlin's sake! How many times had they saved each other's lives? How many times had they barely managed to get out of trouble as apprentices? And Balthazar had thrown it all away for Veronica.

"I thought you of all people would understand," Maxim told him, giving them both a glimpse of how close to the edge he really was.

"I'm sorry." The words were full of pity, and that was the last thing Maxim wanted. Angrier than he'd ever been in his life, Maxim shot a plasma bolt at his old friend's chest. Balthazar avoided it easily and didn't say anything.

With one last glance at Veronica, Maxim stormed out of the library, knowing that there was someone who would appreciate him and his knowledge of Merlin's castle. As he rode off, he realized that he would probably never see Veronica again, which hurt almost more than her rejection.

"Are you alright?" Balthazar asked quietly, all hopes of having a good night fading.

Veronica gave him a small nod. In all her years of knowing Maxim, she had never seen him so angry or jealous. She had seen his true colors, and what she had seen frightened her. The Maxim she knew would never harm her or Balthazar, yet he had wished to hurt both of them that night. She didn't understand what had caused the sudden change, but she already missed her friend. She had a feeling that the man she knew was gone forever.

"You know how he does this when he doesn't get what he wants," Balthazar said, trying to comfort her. Instinctively, he pulled her into a soft embrace and held her there when she started crying.

"It's alright," he whispered, wishing he could help her feel better about their friend leaving.

"I don't think he's coming back." She looked up at him, knowing that he felt the same way.

"We don't know that," he protested, wanting desperately to believe that this was normal, and that Maxim would come back, but the feeling in his gut telling him otherwise.

The next two weeks passed by very uneventfully. There was no word from Maxim, which worried everyone, but there was nothing they could do. Veronica seemed at peace with it, but just sitting around was driving Balthazar crazy.

It was Merlin who finally made him realize why his friend had disappeared.

"Balthazar, his best friend and the woman he loved turned on him. I can't say that I would have stayed either." He paused. "I know that you're upset, but you can't make everyone else's decisions."

Merlin watched his apprentice's face as the words sunk in. The concerned expression turned to one of resigned understanding as he nodded.

"Let's move on. There's something I need to show you," Merlin told him, leading Balthazar down to his study.

The stone walls were lined with bright torches and candles in desperate need of replacement. Various magical artifacts lay strewn randomly about the massive circular room, either on shelves or on tables. The tables lay in utter disarray, with many strange scrolls, jars, and other personal items belonging to the sorcerer. Balthazar couldn't help but crack a small smile whenever he entered the room—it felt like home.

At the center of the many tables lay an open _Incantus_ and a strange black doll sitting next to it. Though there was nothing particularly significant about the doll, Balthazar knew immediately that it would be dangerous if it fell into the wrong hands.

"This is what I've been searching for, Balthazar," Merlin told him, motioning vaguely to the doll.

"What is it?" Balthazar asked, not exactly sure if he wanted to hear the answer.

Merlin took a deep breath. "It is a prison called the Grimhold. I won't go into its bloody history, but if you can trap a Morganian in the Grimhold, they cannot escape, unless they are released from the outside."

"How many can it hold?" Balthazar asked, awed by the fact that they had such a powerful weapon on their side.

Merlin shrugged. "It's difficult to say. The first layer is said to be the weakest, and that the last layer is the hardest to penetrate because it is protected by the other layers."

Balthazar nodded. The Grimhold may have been a powerful thing, but he couldn't imagine having it used against someone he cared about—

"All you have to do is open it in the direction of who you wish to imprison, think of them being trapped, and then close it. Legend says an image of the person inside will appear on the front." Merlin pushed it to the edge of the table. "I thought that you should know how to use it."

"I appreciate it," Balthazar told him truthfully. He was grateful Merlin hadn't spent all day talking about it. Even after being apart for only for a few minutes, he found that his thoughts were drifting to Veronica…

"Now, if you'll excuse me," Merlin said, a hint of a smile on his face. "You'd better be getting back."

"Thank you!" Balthazar called over his shoulder as he sprinted up the stone stairs, trying not to trip. It had happened once when he had been an apprentice—he'd just been brought to Merlin's castle—and he'd landed at Veronica's feet. He'd felt so incredibly stupid, and Maxim hadn't let him live it down for weeks.

Even as he thought about it, he found himself blushing with embarrassment. Balthazar sighed. He wished that he could forget about that incident. It had not been a pleasant one, and it was almost as bad as when he flooded the library trying to clean it.

When Veronica found him, she was quite amused at his flushed face. "What are you thinking about?" She teased, walking with him out to the stables. She had insisted that they go into the village that day while they were celebrating the end of the harvest.

"Well, it's kind of funny, actually. Um, do you remember the time I tripped up the stairs?" He asked quietly, looking down.

Veronica laughed. "Of course! How could I forget that? You'd just come to the castle, and Maxim and I thought that you were so strange. Then you tripped and I realized that you were just like us. We all tripped on that last stair one time or another."

"Oh, really?" Now that was news to him.

She gave a small giggle. "Yes. I'm more likely to trip than you or Maxim anyway, because Merlin always insisted that I wear dresses and act like a lady."

"Well, I for one, am rather glad he made you wear them," he told her, cracking a small smile as he took her hand.

She blushed and he found that he was almost glad that Maxim had left. He had always been jealous of the time he spent with Veronica, and without him, there weren't anymore snide comments or angry glares.

Balthazar's eyes widened as he realized what he was thinking. _**No, I'm not glad that he's gone. I miss my friend but at the same time…**_

"What's wrong?" She asked. He hesitated and she knew. "You're thinking about Maxim again, aren't you?"

He nodded guiltily. "I'm not sure that I mind him gone, but at the same time, he was my best friend—"

She shushed him quietly. "I know. It's alright. I've felt the same way."

Balthazar gave her a strange look. "I don't believe you."

She smiled. "You've always been able to read me like an open book."

"Not so," he disagreed. "When I was first brought here, you were impossible to read. Not once could I tell what you were thinking about me."

"Why did you care about my opinion?" Veronica asked, genuinely curious.

Balthazar looked away, knowing that he couldn't lie to her. "I—I thought you were pretty," he admitted. "But Maxim acted like you two—"

She laughed. "Oh, Balthazar, never in my life have I felt something besides brotherly love for Maxim. I never knew that you felt that way."

"Well…"

Veronica only laughed again and they made small talk as they rode down the well-worn path to the village. When they finally got there, she looked at him and asked, "Do you ever wish that you were like them?"

"What do you mean?" He asked, watching as she eyed a necklace at a vendor's booth.

"Don't you wish that we could be normal? No magic, no Morganians… just a peaceful life…" She trailed off, her expression dreamy.

Balthazar shook his head. He couldn't imagine having life without magic—it had led him to her.

A small child suddenly started wailing and Veronica rushed over to her, asking what was wrong and trying to comfort her. Balthazar found that this was his chance—he hurried to the vendor, bought the necklace and hid it within the folds of his cloak. He would give it to her that night, knowing that she would be happy.

He continued to watch her as she gave the little girl back to her mother, the girl now smiling and happy once more. Balthazar marveled at her patience and love for children and he realized that she would be a great mother to her own children. He shook his head to clear it—had he honestly just thought that?

_**Yes, I did. I want to see her have children… I think I'm in love with her…**_ He realized, a smile coming across his features. Balthazar saw her smile and thought that he had died and gone to heaven. Yes, he was in love.

"What is it?" She asked, confused at the wide, goofy grin on his face.

"Oh, nothing. Is she okay?" He asked.

Veronica nodded, still confused. "Yes. She lost her mother. Luckily, the mother was just around the corner and heard her crying."

"That's good." Balthazar couldn't stop thinking of the expression on her face when he gave her the necklace that night. They would go to the garden and it would be perfect—

"Balthazar?" She asked. "What is it?"

He grinned to reassure her that nothing was wrong. "I'm sorry. I've just been thinking about something Merlin said."

Balthazar knew his lie was weak, and Veronica saw right through it as well, but she didn't say anything. Instead, she smiled and they spent the rest of the day wandering amongst the people they fought so desperately to protect against Morgan.

"Thank you for coming with me," she told him, smiling as they rode back to the castle later that night.

"It was my pleasure," he answered, unable to wipe the lovesick grin off of his face.

Silence ensued and they realized something was wrong. Balthazar felt dread grow in the pit of his stomach as they entered the castle. Servants lay slaughtered on the floor, corpses mutilated beyond recognition. Blood streaked the walls and pooled on the floor. Morgana had been here.

"Balthazar," Veronica whispered, motioning for him to come closer. They heard fighting in Merlin's study, and knew that Morgan had to have someone from the inside to know the layout of castle and how to peel back each one of the magical defenses.

"Horvath," he replied, leading her to a secret stairway that led to his own study that was next to Merlin's.

"We can break through the wall," he explained. She nodded, and followed him. It took both of them several tries to break through the stone wall, and once there, Balthazar watched Horvath leave the room, a page of the _Incantus_ clutched in his hands. Veronica wanted to cry. How could he do this to them?

Horvath may have left the room, but Morgana lingered. She felt the presence of the other two apprentices. Annoyed, she waited until they broke through the stone, and then shot a shock-wave at Balthazar.

It hit him hard, and he flew into the wall, dazed. Angrily, and deciding in that moment that she had to save him, Veronica started repeating the words to the human fusion spell that she had been studying. It literally took the soul from one body and transferred it to another. She went through the motions, and before she knew it, excruciating pain spread throughout her body. She sank to her knees, crying out. Morgana was killing her, she knew that. But Balthazar was alive and well. That's all that mattered.

Balthazar watched in horror as Veronica performed _Human Fusion_. He knew that she had been practicing, and he hadn't been pleased about it, but he had supported her nonetheless. Now that she was using it to save him, he wanted to scream. Why was this happening now?

"Balthazar," she whispered weakly. He knew she was dying, and though it broke his heart to do it, he reached for the Grimhold that had fallen to the floor in the commotion.

"I love you," he told her, hating himself as he did as Merlin instructed. He closed the prison softly, watching through blurry vision as a picture of Veronica appeared on the surface of the doll.

At that moment, all Balthazar wanted to do was kill Maxim Horvath in the slowest, most painful way possible. It was Horvath's fault that they were in this mess in the first place. He should pay. Standing, he gripped the hilt of his sword tightly, moving towards the door at a sprint, but then seeing Merlin, bleeding onto the stone floor from a knife wound to his chest.

"Balthazar," he croaked, beckoning his favorite apprentice to his side. He knew he was dying—he had to pass on his ring. Taking it from his finger, he placed it in Balthazar's hands, and said, "You must find the Prime Merlinnean. He is the only one who can destroy Morgan forever."

Balthazar nodded, even angrier at Morgana who had not only almost killed Veronica, but for murdering the only father-figure he'd ever known. He gripped the ring so tightly that it made his palm bleed, but he found that the anger disappeared, leaving only grief that all he'd ever known had been destroyed in one night by his best friend.

"Balthazar, listen to me." Merlin saw the despair in his apprentice's eyes and knew that his last ones would be words of encouragement. "You are very powerful. You will find the Prime Merlinnean and you will watch as he defeats Morgana." He paused, taking a shuddering breath. "I am very proud of you."

The boy—no, man, Merlin had to remind himself—nodded and whispered his thanks, barely able to keep the tears at bay. Taking one last breath, Merlin gave him a small smile and closed his eyes, knowing that Balthazar wouldn't fail him.

Balthazar wished there was something he could do, something that would reverse the events that had happened in the past months. He wished that he could turn to someone, anyone, and have them tell him what to do. His world had been shattered—how do you move on?

He looked down at the Grimhold, saw Veronica's face, and suddenly he knew. He _would_ find the one Merlin had spoken of, and he _would _free Veronica. Feeling slightly better about what had happened, Balthazar left the room and went to his own, finding a saddlebag and filling it with only the most necessary items. He ransacked the kitchens, knowing that being a sorcerer didn't always get you a free meal.

Next, he went to Merlin's room. He knew that the sorcerer had plenty of money kept away. He found it easily, made it ten times smaller and placed it next to the necklace within the folds of his cloak. It would come in handy at some point, and Balthazar knew he'd need all the help he could get.

He glanced out the window and saw that it was still dark outside. Suddenly, exhaustion came over him, along with throbbing pain in his head where he'd hit the stone floor. Balthazar staggered back to his room, angry that he hadn't noticed the adrenaline fading from his system. The Prime Merlinnean could wait a few hours.

Thankfully, there weren't any nightmares that night. However, they would plague him for the next year as he hunted every village, searching everywhere for Merlin's successor. It was a hard, thankless job, and Balthazar learned that he took having companions for granted. He missed everything—Veronica's laugh, the castle, and—never did he think he would see the day—but he even missed Merlin's lectures.

For over a thousand years, Balthazar looked everywhere, fought many Morganians, and finally, a gut feeling told him to go to America. He was so tired of traveling, and so sick of Europe. After living everywhere that America had to offer, he settled in New York, and found a small place that would serve as shop and home. He lovingly named it Arcana Cabana. Of course, only the strange people of New York City would come into the shop, but being able to interact with other people after so long saved his sanity.

He began studying the _Incantus_ even harder, looking for any clues that may lead him to the Prime Merlinean. He never found anything.

After thirty years of barely managing to pay the rent, Balthazar had started to pack up. It was the year 2000, and nobody cared about magic anymore. It was all about computers and electronics, things that he found very annoying and time-consuming.

He'd just started to pack up to start traveling again when he heard the door open. He glanced and saw that a small child, about ten, came into the store nervously. The boy was looking around frantically, as if searching for something. He stopped at the lamp, grinning. The boy experimentally rubbed his sleeve on it, and Balthazar had to bite his lip to keep from laughing.

Then, as children do, he ran into something and almost knocked over the cursed urn that he wondered why he kept around. It was just a bad idea, considering many people had almost either opened it or knocked it over.

Balthazar saw that there was something special about this boy. His backpack clearly stated that the boy's name was Dave, and he had the boy convinced he could read minds as he went behind the counter and showed him the ring.

Knowing that he would be disappointed again, Balthazar set the steel dragon into Dave's palm. Relief and joy flooded through him when the dragon awoke and curled up around Dave's finger.

He was free, and soon, Veronica would be too.

Author's Note: Thank you for reading! Any feedback would be nice. This was meant to be a one-shot, but if I get enough reviews, I'll continue it. :)


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